Stress
by Running Like Yesterday- Slowly
Summary: The OWLs cause a lot of stress on the fifth years... some time is needed to overcome that stress.


**AN:** Sorry I'm a crappy updater. I wrote this to overcome writers block on the Football Jacob story but it just made me tired. I know it's short but it's an experiment to see if you guys like some of my shorter stories (cause even my one shots are quite lengthy), so let me know.

"_Yeah I've been stressing heaps lately, everything is so tense, the air is thick 'cause of everyone's nerves."_

The words resounded through Harry's mind as he crawled across the ground late into the night in the boy's dormitory. The soft breathing of four other sleeping boys filled the room as the chilly autumn air outside threatened to break into the comforting space they slept in.

If Harry had learnt one thing from growing up in a house void of any human contact, it was nothing, however, this house of nothing had lead him to the Burrow one year where he'd learnt a few handy tricks from Fred and George while Ron was busy being lecture by Mrs Weasley about cleaning up after himself.

"_Now Harry," Fred had started once Harry had sat down on the edge of their bed, both Fred and George were pacing back and forth in front of him as if contemplating how to break bad news, "the OWLs are a stressful time in a young witch or wizards life."_

"_And there are procedures taken by many to relieve this stress that can be somewhat dangerous," George continued._

"_And we wouldn't want our little Ronny's friend Harry to get into trouble now would we, George?"_

"_No we wouldn't, Fred. So we want to let you know a safe way for young – I don't know about witches – wizards to ease the pain of the OWLs."_

From then on, Harry had taken the newly discovered self-helping tip on-board, and to that day where Harry scurried across the ground in the night, he had engaged in relieving the stress at least once a day, and on weekends twice daily.

Dean Thomas had uttered those words that had prompted Harry into the act of charity that called upon him late that autumn night. Kneeling beside Dean's bed, Harry pulled back the drapes to reveal a dark-skinned boy in amongst the ruffles of a fluffy red and gold blanket. Soundly asleep, Dean looked peacefully at ease, however Harry new of the anguish that would greet him on the morrow, so he would help fight the burden during the night, on behalf of the sleeping figure.

Harry watched as the blanket rose in a snaking pattern as his hand wove its way carefully through the layers of fabric and heat produced by the motionless body. Once Harry's hand had reached its target, he lifted the blankets just enough to reveal the centre part of the body.

Harry licked his lips in anticipation, the flannelette of Dean's pyjama pants draped over the bulge that Harry knew for a fact were not clad with underwear. This only made Harry's job easier when unbuttoning the fly and extracting the dark-chocolate coloured cock from its resting place. It was large in Harry's hand, making it heavy to lift out, requiring Harry to stand up slightly to heave the monster out of the pants.

Dean stirred quietly as Harry lifted it up to stand straight. Immediately after touching it, it began to awaken, wanting to stand up by itself. This was not possible straight away as it took considerable time for Dean's body to supply such a heavy object with the amount of blood it needed to function properly.

Harry assisted in the process by slowly pulling down on the skin of the cock; the gasp Harry had produced himself so many times before appeared from behind Dean's juicy lips after the cock of the cock was exposed to the external air after the drawing back of the foreskin. Harry licked his lips again, this time to taste the salty air that he could smell after just a few slow strokes of the large poll standing at attention in front of him.

Dean's cock hardened into something twice the size of what Harry had originally removed; even if Harry didn't want to continue he would have had to as there was no way that that cock was going to fit back into the pyjamas. Harry leant forward so that his head hovered directly above the black log, a single bead of liquid perched atop the tower. Harry stared at it, just as the bead stared back at Harry. He leant forward, not breaking eye contact with it, as if in a staring contest; sticking his tongue out to taste the bead, Harry continue to stare at the cock, knowing he would not lose. Yet, as soon as Harry tasted the salty-sweet juice on the tip of his tongue, it was all he could do not to moan loudly, so that meant closing his eyes in pure ecstasy to remain silent. So Harry had lost the staring contest, and upon opening his eyes to admit defeat, his mouth had entirely covered the head of Dean's cock and was making its way down the already slick-with-saliva shaft.

Harry hadn't remembered starting to suck on the cock, just the motion of lowering himself onto the cock, forcing sleepful groans out of Dean. Each descent was a challenge, and each descent saw the arrival of naive Harry. The head would pass his lips, to which he relished in the feeling, it would tickle the roof of his mouth, causing him to exert all his strength not the jam the whole cock into his mouth at once, all the while naive Harry would be confident that this was the time that he would bury his nose into the soft muscle of Dean's upper thigh. Every time Harry would reach the same point where the head of Dean's cock would swell to such a size in Harry mouth that he felt as though he would choke; his throat would close around the head, his eyes would water and his body would be thrown back in an attempt to save Harry from the fist of the monster that was trying to suffocate him.

Eventually it got to the point where Harry descended onto the black cock, licking along the underside of the head as he went, then the shaft, and while Harry was busy trying to see if he could lick the shaft and the head of the cock at the same time, his throat granted entrance to the cock head, letting Harry fall further onto the cock where his nose pushed into Dean's left thigh.

In such excitement Harry laughed causing a rumbling moan to vibrate his throat, the sensation pushing Dean over the edge. The head swelled up; Harry tried to back up off the cock to watch the magnificent white fireworks, but the cock head wouldn't fit back through the entrance to his throat at this swollen size, and before Harry could figure out what to do, Dean was moaning and tensing up in his sleep as his third leg spewed cum down his friends throat. The more Harry tired to swallow the come, the more it coaxed the come to keep spilling from Dean's cock. Harry watched with wide eyes as the dark boy performed miniature sleeping stomach crutches as his body quaked under the immerse pressure of forcing his seed into the white boy's mouth.

Once it had stopped, Harry waited patiently, still swallowing, for the head to soften, allowing for it to pass back out of his mouth.

Harry crawled across the floor and got back into bed after tucking the cock back to sleep, this time lying between his master's legs with a sheen of saliva that Harry was eager to see in the morning while Dean showered.

Harry laid back on his pillow and smiled as he drifted off to sleep knowing that he had helped a friend out that night.


End file.
